That’s Julie Christie, as we talked last week about her acclaimed performance as a woman stricken with Alzheimer’s in “Away From Her.”

The movie took on an unexpected immediacy when former Supreme Court Justice Sandra Day O’ Connor revealed an identical true-life scenario. (O’Connor’s husband, suffering from Alzheimer’s, has forgotten her, and he fell in love with another woman.) In “Away From Her,” it is Christie whose memory fades, to the distress of her spouse, played magnificently by Gordon Pinsent. Without recollection of her former life, she turns to another man.

I used the word “tragic” to describe the situation, but Julie said, “Yes and no. The way Sandra Day O’ Connor talks about it – and even in our movie – there’s a sense of humor, a bittersweet irony. Sometimes things that seem tragic can be turned around. Accept life. It’s the Buddhist way.”

Early last year I met with Julie downtown at the trendy Mercer Hotel, along with the brilliant young director of “Away From Her,” Sarah Polley. Studio reps nervously hovered. The actress was delightful, proud of her work – though she gave all the credit to Polley – but she had an intriguing, distracted quality. She is not bamboozled by press flattery or with her iconic status. “I think it’s kind of a joke, don’t you?” she asked, when I used that phrase. I assured the star of “Billy Liar,” “Darling,” “Dr. Zhivago,” “Far From the Madding Crowd,” “McCabe & Mrs. Miller,” “Fahrenheit 451,” “Shampoo,” “Don’t Look Now” “Heaven Can Wait” that it was no joke.

NOW, with Christie a shoo-in for an Oscar nod, we meet again, at a far- from-trendy Chinese diner on 79th & Broadway. She sat alone in a booth, wearing a fetching red beret and matching red sweater. Pants. No makeup. Luminous. She fidgeted a great deal, changing position. Her youthful nervous energy recalls the vibrant girl who represented the Swinging ’60s. Picking up on her basic discomfort with the process of selling herself, I said, “I’ll try to be a fascinating interviewer!” She laughed, “Oh, please don’t do that. Let’s just talk.”

Christie has never married, though her long relationship with Warren Beatty was relentlessly chronicled. Her private life has remained singularly private – and when it hasn’t been, it hasn’t been her doing. She lives in Wales and works when she wants to. Fans cherish even small turns in films such as “Troy,” “Harry Potter” and “Finding Neverland.”

We spoke on the Monday after the Golden Globes press conference, at which she took best actress in a drama. Had the “real” show gone on, giddy and glamorous, would she have attended? “Most probably not. I don’t care for that sort of thing. It’s just . . . too much.” She was attending the National Board of Review dinner that very night in NYC, warily trying to convince herself it would be bearable, “It sounds rather nice, don’t you think?”

“What about the Oscars (if the show happens!)?”

“You know, I just don’t have the guts not to go. It’s pathetic, truly, to admit this, but even now I don’t think I could deal with pissing off the media and all they’d say. I mean, what if I won and wasn’t there? I don’t care about pissing off ‘Hollywood’ because it really doesn’t exist anymore. But pissing off the media? It was difficult when I was a girl, and they’re not any kinder now. I just hate not being strong enough!”

Talk of Oscar led us to the phenomenon of the red carpet. Julie exclaimed, “It’s product placement now. ‘Who are you wearing, from where have you borrowed your jewels?’ I don’t know where the ‘glamour’ is in admitting you’ve borrowed your jewelry, or you’ve been put together by a stylist. How about not wearing jewels? Would that be so terrible? And what’s wrong with fakes? They glitter, that’s the point, isn’t it?” (On her own hand, Julie wears two beautiful but battered antique rings. “Oh, I can’t even remember why I keep these.” Doubtful, but she’s not telling.)

Christie was quite the fashion icon in her day – remember “Petulia”? – but she says, “When I started out, I made my clothes. I knew how to sew; I knew how to accessorize. I wasn’t an idiot. It’s all quite wonderful to wear designer gowns, they look and feel marvelous . . . ” Then she stopped. “You know what, for all my talk about ‘borrowing’ that’s probably exactly what will happen to me tonight. I’ll choose something of my own, and they’ll go ‘Oh, God no! You can’t wear that. Too tatty, too old!’ ”

We talked about how well her films have held up (“No longueurs?” she asked with a wink, of the epic “Zhivago.”). . . the beauty of black-and-white photography (“It’s far more evocative and flattering.”) . . . the Charlize Theron Dior fragrance commercial in which Theron walks through a series of lavish rooms, dropping her clothes on the way – a direct take on one of the most famous scenes from “Darling” (“But she’s like a powerful cat, she stalks. I was despair and misery in that scene.”) . . . the impact of ’60s fashion (“Youth had its revolutionary moment.”).

“So, when you win the Oscar . . . ” Julie puts her hands up and waves that off with another great laugh, “No, don’t say it!” OK, fine – if you win, where will it go, at your farmhouse in Wales? Will it go up and along with the 1965 Oscar and the many other awards and plaques collected over the years? Miss Christie thinks: “In a box. In a room. A box in a room full of things I don’t use. Things I’ve appreciated, but don’t use. Do you understand?”